Hateful Games: (An arranged marriage billionaire romance) (Arranged Games Book 2)

Chapter Forty-six

I haven’t kissed my wife in two goddamn days.

My body is going through withdrawals.

I’m constantly distracted, running on fumes because sleep has evaded me and my employees are walking on eggshells around me. How does she have me addicted so fast?

I knew she was going to resist me after I fucked her sweet mouth. The single best blow job of my life. But what I didn’t expect was her to erect a wall in the form of an angry pit bull, Bunny, who doesn’t even allow me within a mile radius of her. The damn dog growls and barks as soon as I’m in the same room with her.

Hell, he even sleeps in our bed. Which means I’m out sleeping in the guest bedroom.

Meanwhile, Rosalie goes about her day without a care in the world. Her indifferent attitude rivaling a cold-hearted man. She’s hired a bodyguard that can’t be bought with money or scared with threats. Or fired.

Left with no alternative choice, I’ve had to resort to bribing.

“Are you sure you don’t want a bite, Bunny?” I calmly wave the slice of meat in front of his face. He doesn’t even lift his head from his paws. I offer the next item. “Maybe bacon?”

I hold my breath when he sniffs the air and then turns his head away.

Why couldn’t he be smitten with me like Fire is?

Yanking out phone, I type ‘how to bribe dogs’ in the search bar. It says to give them a treat. Dammit, I already tried that. Next, it suggests to bring them toys.

Huh. I look at Bunny thoughtfully. He does like to play and jump.

This may work.

Quickly, I order a bunch online. Afterward, I check the time and it’s seven in the evening. Rosalie is yet to be back from the shelter, which she’s visiting daily. Today my mom joined her as well. Those two have become thick as thieves after just a single meet.

It pleases me because I can see it healing my mom.

When left alone, her demons return.

It’s my biggest fear because I almost lost her the last time.

If only I could get Rosalie to like me like she does my mother.

I came home early, hoping to convince her to have dinner together at the Italian restaurant she loves. Instead, I returned to an empty home.

Luckily, I didn’t give the cook I hired after the kitchen fiasco the night off. A middle-aged woman named Tanu.

“Mr. D’Cruz,” she says. “I’ve cooked rajma and rice, as well as mashed potatoes. Is there anything else you’d like me to do before I leave?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay,” she smiles. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning. Good night, Mr. D’Cruz.”

The door shuts behind her and my thoughts drift to work. It had been another day of a problematic shit show. I decided to send my team on the Middle East project to a remote location to avoid risking another leak. There will be lots of scrutiny on our firm in the coming months, especially after we announce the opening of The Cruz Port tomorrow night.

It will be the biggest port in the country yet.

I should be celebrating this milestone. However, my mind is stuck on the insider in my company. As if luck is on my side, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

SAMARTH: We found the mole.

ME: Who?

SAMARTH: Your former assistant, Ramesh. We caught him red-handed. Have him in lockup in the office.

ME: Keep him there. I’m on my way.

I have a lot of questions for him before I turn him in. Mainly, why he decided to fuck with me and decide to stupidly waltz in after all this time. Relief should be coursing through my veins, but his timing doesn’t sit well with me.

Is my instinct right?

Or am I becoming cynical like my father accused me of?

***

“Why did you do it?”

“Seriously? I need to explain?” Ramesh irritably huffs. His wrist cuffed to the chair Samarth forced him in before I arrived.

“Yes. It will be a deciding factor in how severely I punish you,” I lie. Leaking the company’s confidential information is the worst crime he could commit. And he did it twice. Intentionally. He’s going to be spending the rest of his life behind bars.

“You fired me!”

“I fire a lot of people. You’re not special.”

“No, you did it because of your selfish wife,” he yells.

“You’re wrong,” I calmly state, which only infuriates him further. “I fired you because you let your personal interests come in the way of my meetings. She wasn’t even an employee yet you took her orders and gave her access to my calendar as well as my emails. I can’t have staff on board I can’t trust. Sadly, you proved me correct.”

“She tricked me!” he cries with the lame and childlike excuse. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Instead of coming to me for a second chance, you put yourself into a bigger hole by leaking confidential information to my competitors, and that lost me millions.”

“I was a good employee, dammit.”

“Not loyal.” Ignoring him, I question Samarth, who is leaning against the wall behind me and observing quietly. “Why was he here tonight?”

“His account was finally suspended. So, he stupidly thought he’d try here after slipping in with his ex-colleagues,” explains Samarth. “We caught him on camera and waited to catch him red-handed.”

I’m questioning why I hired him at all. Rising to my full height, I button my suit jacket and order Samarth, “Hand him over to the authorities and make sure to confiscate all information and every file he has on his place.”

“Have sent my team an hour ago.”

“Good.” Without another word, I walk out. Ramesh’s wailing following me until I’m out of earshot.

My mood is slightly better as I drive back home and it’s ten-thirty by the time I reach it. The moment I cross the threshold, Maggie and Fire race toward me, their tongues lolling out to the side. Fire barrels into my leg so hard that he flops onto his back from the impact. While Maggie, who was right behind, slams into him and falls sideways.

The scene is so comical I burst out laughing.

I pet them both before leading them to the kitchen. I feed them some leftover bacon from the morning. They busy themselves munching in the corner while I go in search of Rosalie.

The library is empty. So, I check the bedroom.

She’s fast asleep.

While I’m not surprised she went to bed early, I’m shocked that tonight she is actually sleeping. Rather than pretending, like she has the past two nights. Unbeknownst that I’m a light sleeper, she sneaks out of the bedroom around twelve at midnight downstairs and returns back in the wee hours of the morning. Just before it’s time for me to be up.

I don’t have a single clue what she does during those hours.

The mystery of it has left me intrigued. Because I thought I learned everything there was to know about my wife. Apparently not.

I’m certain she’ll sneak out again tonight.

Except, I’m going to get to the bottom of it, catching her red-handed and demanding answers. Right now, I take full advantage of the opportunity to study her closely without interruption from her hulking pawed bodyguard.

A privilege she’s stolen from me.

Laying sideways with her joined hands underneath as a pillow, her deep red hair fans out below her. The shorter tresses falling onto her right cheek, concealing half of her face. Desperate for a full glimpse combined with the need to touch her, I push the hair behind her ear.

She doesn’t stir.

I let my fingers linger, trailing it down her jaw and to her cherry red lips, still dark with remnants of her lipstick. She has four full drawers with every shade of red and brand under the sun. Yet she keeps buying more.

Then there’s her obsession with books. There’s a delivery every day.

Thank fuck I have money because I want to spoil my fiery girl rotten. If she’ll just call off Bunny, I swear I’ll buy her every library in the country.

Tracing her lips, they part and her warm breath teases my fingertips. Her mouth was so eager as she sucked me dry, it was a miracle I lasted as long as I did. Had we not been at my parents’ house, I would’ve fucked her.

Inching my hand down the slope of her shoulder, down her arm, I stop at her fingers. Lifting them, I take in her new nails. They were a different pattern on our wedding day. I run my fingertips over her coffin-shaped nails with white spiderwebs drawn on each one. I hate that I know what it’s called.

I might’ve secretly looked it up, caught at a very weak moment.

That was quite a lot of unnecessary information.

Although I did learn Rosalie’s favorite are stiletto and almond shaped, which I’ve oftentimes seen her wear over the years. When she shifts, I drop her hand. Bending, I steal a soft kiss. Just a press of my lips against her.

Before the greed to wake her up encompasses me whole, I step back and cover her with the blanket. Locking the door so Bunny and the others don’t slip in, I stride into the closet to strip. After a quick shower, I slide into the bed and wrap my arm around Rosalie’s waist from behind.

I wait, then smile two seconds later.

Rosalie turns, sighs, and tucks herself against me, and everything feels right in the world.

I’m keeping you, Rose… is my last thought as I fall asleep.

***

Only an hour passes when as predicted, Rosalie wakes up but doesn’t immediately rise. Because it takes her a moment to realize her surroundings. She tenses upon realizing I’m in the bed with her.

At first, her reaction is infuriation when she finds herself waking up in my arms while wrapped around me as though I’m her lifeline.

Yet, she never uncurls herself as though she’s on fire.

No, she melts right back against my chest while those sharp fingernails explore the ridges of my abs or wherever she’s resting her palms. It takes all my restraint not to demand she dig them in deeper and mark me as hers.

Even now, her soft breath teases my skin while she trails her hand along my lower abs. Keeping my breathing even becomes a task. Especially when I feel her head lift and gaze up at me. I can imagine those black eyes intently watching with her lips between her teeth.

“Nova,” she whispers.

Christ! She’s killing me.

I find newfound respect for actors. Once satisfied I’m deep in slumber, Rosalie untangles herself from me and shifts away. Her hair brushes my arm that’s stretched across her pillow as she leaves the bed.

Her footsteps recede as she tiptoes toward the door. I hear her wince when she unlocks it with a creaking noise. She doesn’t completely shut it, which works in my favor.

Soft light from the hallway filters in through the ajar door when I open my eyes and sit up. I decide to wait and let her settle in before I confront her. My patience lasts for a good twenty minutes before I rise and leave the bedroom.

God knows what trouble she’s up to that it requires her to be up all night.

Taking a wild guess, I stalk in the direction of the library. Imagine my shock when it’s closed with no light drifting in from inside. However, my feet skid to a halt when I see my home office door ajar with the light switched on.

What the hell is she doing in there?

Hackles rising and alert, I soundlessly move and peer through the gap. Rosalie sits on my desk with her back facing me, headphones on and her laptop in the front. Her little army sits around her on the floor, dead to the world.

I frown in bewilderment, running a hand over my jaw as I watch her as she types in that furious pace I’ve caught her a few times. Beside her laptop, sits an open book.

Does she have a job I’m not aware of?

Why is she hiding? Unless she’s some sort of secret government agent, I don’t get it.

Pushing the door open—her still oblivious and deep in the zone—I step inside. None of the dogs stir, thankfully. Cautiously approaching her from behind, I try to make out the words on the screen but fail.

What has Rosalie so absorbed?

The gentlemanly thing would be to walk away and let her have her privacy. She obviously doesn’t want me to know or she would’ve told me.

Oh, would she?

Fuck this. She can’t possibly hate me any more than she already does. What kind of villain would I be if I don’t play my part? With that thought, I lean over her and snatch her laptop away.

She screams.

I only have a second to skirt out of her way before her arm comes swinging at me with her book. Rosalie pushes from the chair, headphones dropping around her neck, and whirls around. “I have a weapo—”

Her mouth shuts when her terrified gaze connects with mine.

I arch on eyebrow. “Do tell me what weapons you have, little hellion? ’Cause that book ain’t one.”

Her expression quickly morphs into fury. “You won’t think that when I beat you to death with it.”

My lips twitch. I missed her murderous threats. I snort as I say, “That’s a meaningless threat. You love your books too much, sweetheart.”

“Why are you up?” she demands accusatorily with her hands on her hips for full effect. It only draws my attention to her tiny shorts and the lace camisole she’s wearing on top. Her nipples poking through the thin material.

“I have a better question,” I retort. “Why aren’t you in our bed?”

“Your bed.”’

“Semantics.”

“Give me back my laptop before I sic Bunny on your ass.”

Bunny and the others are passed out. Not even Rosalie’s scream woke them up. I’m safe for now. If he were up, it’d be another story. Ignoring her, I focus on the contents of the screen. Only a few words in, I realize it’s a story.

“Hey!’ snaps Rosalie. “Stop reading. I didn’t give you permission.”

I continue to disregard her and read. My eyebrows shooting to my hairline when the well-written and angsty scene takes a very erotic turn.

My Rose wrote this?

“Nova!” is the only warning I get before Rosalie is invading my personal space, arms raised. But I duck out of her reach just in time. “Nova! Stop playing around. It’s not funny.”

I’m too engrossed. Especially when I see the similarities from when I spanked her in the kitchen. Except, it doesn’t end there and leads to the girl being bent over the counter and fucked.

“Did you want me to fuck you that afternoon?” I rasp to her. “You only had to ask, Rose.”

Her cheeks flame in embarrassment. “Don’t think so highly of yourself. That has nothing to do with real life.”

I tilt my head and give her a knowing look.

She comes at me again. However, I let her snatch her laptop and grab her book instead. I read the title. Twisted Deeds by Rose.

“Stop stealing my stuff, Nova!”

I cage her against the desk and tilt her chin to mine. “Are you an author, Rose?”